Cracked
by Evanna Reid
Summary: "The last things I remember about that abyssal place are a gentle voice, a bright silver light, and the beating of my own hearts." All I've ever known in my life is nothing. I wake up alone, not knowing who I am, where I am, or how I got here. I've never seen these places, yet they all seem so familiar. All I ever remember is my name: Evanna. 11 x OC, Amy x Rory Romance/Adventure
1. Prologue - Nameless, Faceless

A/N: Hello guys! This is a new story of mine, a Doctor Who story to be specific. I came up with the idea for this story about a week ago, and I haven't been able to get it out of my head since then. I will try to update at least once every week, but I can't promise anything, because I have semester finals next week, so I will try my hardest. :)

This is going to be a romance, an 11xOC romance, to be specific. It will take place in Series 5 and on, with some of my own add-ins and such. Each series will probably be a separate story.

I try to find a quote, or a section of song lyrics that inspires me to do each story and chapter. This is the quote that inspired me to write this story, and it really makes me think of what I have planned for this story:

"All that is gold does not glitter,  
Not all those who wander are lost;  
The old that is strong does not wither,  
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,  
A light from the shadows shall spring;  
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,  
The crownless shall again be king."

~ _J.R.R Tolkien_

Below is the quote for the chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, the 11th Doctor, or other related objects. BUT! I do have a spiffy sonic screwdriver, River Song's journal, and a Dalek phone charm that spins and flashes... It's not enough. D:

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_**Cracked**_

A Doctor Who Fanfiction

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_**Prologue ~ Nameless, Faceless**_

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"Let go of all you're clinging onto  
Free yourself from what binds you  
Binds you to the floor  
Take back all the things you're used to  
Whatever you belong to  
And just walk out of the door."

Get Yourself Right ~ _Moneta_

* * *

How long have I been here? There's no way of knowing, no way to track the time. I've been here, surrounded by deafening silence and suffocating darkness, for what seems like forever. Forever is a very loose term, though. Forever could be days, weeks, months, even years. It could be a decade, or a century, even a millennia. I've been here so long I'm starting to forget who I am; where I'm from; how old I am. It's a truly terrifying thing, forgetting. Like everything you've ever known; ever felt; ever seen, is being drawn out your body, extracted into an unfamiliar familiarity, a constant feeling of déjà vu, leaving you reaching, scrambling for something you know is both there and not there. It's all very confusing and contradictory.

As long as I've been here, so has the silence and never-ending darkness. At first, I was scared of the abyssal darkness, very much like a child would be. Which I find odd, considering I wasn't afraid of the dark as a child… Or, at least, I don't remember being afraid. But I suppose it's rather typical to fear the unknown. It's that feeling you get when you think something or someone is watching you from a distance, a lingering stare you feel travel up your spine. But you turn around, and no one is there. Nothing but shadows that seem to creep around corners to scare you. I realized after a while, though, that there's nothing in the darkness. No lurking monsters to be afraid of.

Perhaps the most unnerving thing is the silence. I didn't realize how important hearing was until I didn't possess the ability anymore. I haven't heard anything since I was brought to this place. Hell, I haven't spoken since I came here. If I spoke now, my voice would probably sound like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together. Dear lord, that would be an awful sound. Or, at least, I think it would. Anyway, the sudden presence of noise would probably make my ears bleed and my head ache like I had a thousand bells ringing in my head. That wouldn't be pleasant. Just like seeing light or the first time in forever would feel like searing daggers plunging into my eyes and moving my limbs for the first time would take the strength of an army. That, and a whole bottle of painkillers to top it off.

Oh, that's another thing… I can't move. Not even my lips. I am completely immobile, from the tips of my fingers to the ends of my toes, along with anything else. I'm completely numb, all of my nerve endings unresponsive to outside stimuli. I wonder if my hearts are still beating, if blood is still pumping through my veins… Wait, where did that come from? Don't I only have one heart…? Great, I can't even remember my own anatomy. Shit, am I even a woman anymore? Or was I a man? My memory is definitely failing. Well, I suppose there isn't any way of knowing considering I can't see or feel anything.

All of these questions are making me angry, and horrified, and sad…! I can't remember who or what I am, where I am, or how I got here! It's all maddening, and frightening, and I just want to leave this place… Even if my ears bleed, my eyes hurt, or my body's numb, my head aches, and my voice is raspy and dry. I don't care! I just want to know who I am! I just want to know how I got here, where _here_ is! I want to know my family. Do I even have a family? Was I married? Do I have brothers or sisters? Who were my parents? Am I an orphan? Have I fallen in love? Was I just as alone as I am now?

I think I may be crying now. Maybe not on the outside, but I _know_ I'm crying on the inside. Why me? Why was I chosen to lose _everything_? Does anyone I know… anyone I _used_ to know, miss me? Hell, do I even know anyone!? Does anyone know me!? Do I even exist!? I can't even answer that question. I feel I should know all of this, yet I don't. Why have I forgotten it all? Why am I forgetting myself? Why do I exist if I'm not meant to exist? I'm losing everything, and I am terrified and _pissed_ at whatever, _who_ever it is that is taking everything that I am, everything that matters to me; everything that has ever mattered to me, _from_ me…

I'm _pissed_ at whoever had the _audacity_, whoever had the _balls_ to lock me away from the world and take my memories, _my __**precious**__ memories_, from me. I pity them, because I am angered beyond the point of no return. And even if I don't remember who I am, they need to fear me. Because I will break free from this dark and silent prison. And I will come for them. I'll find them eventually, even if it takes me a lifetime.

The last things I remember about that abyssal place are a gentle voice, a bright silver light, and the beating of my own hearts.

I felt a chill crawl up my spine for the first time as a familiar male voice whispered in my ear, gentle and anciently sad. Two words that were _so very important_, murmured softly in my ear. Two words that would change my life…

"Break free."

… and I felt an excruciating pain throughout my body as I was engulfed in a bright, silver light and my twin hearts throbbed painfully in my chest for the first, and last, time.

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I hope you enjoyed the prologue. My OC will be revealed in the next chapter, which I will try to get up as soon as I can. Review if you like, because I will appreciate it. :)


	2. Chapter 1 - Demon in the Streets

A/N: Dear lord, I am sorry. I said I would have this up about a week ago, but I have actually had quite a bit of trouble with it. I'm not so sure about my action scenes, but I think they're okay. I have also had bronchitis for nearly two weeks, which is definitely hell. I've been plagued by constant coughing, and a throbbing headache, which has made it difficult to think.

Any way, there's a little more on my character in this chapter (well, actually, quite a bit, though you don't learn really anything about her past). Her name is Evanna, which means 'Young Warrior.' The meaning of her name was coincidental, because I didn't learn that until after I gave her the name.

I originally planned to introduce Amelia at the end of this chapter, but it ended up being a lot longer than I thought it would be, so I'm going to put it in the next chapter. You may also be interested to know that I wrote a great deal of this chapter wearing a bowtie and fez. No...? No one cares...? I didn't think so, but I just thought I should let that be known. :)

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Cracked  
A Doctor Who Fanfiction

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"I was born of the womb of a poisonous spell  
Beaten and broken and chased from the land  
But I rise up above it, high up above it and see  
I was hung from the tree made of tongues of the weak  
The branches, the bones of liars and thieves  
But I rise up above, high above and see.

Pray to your god, open your heart  
Whatever you do, don't be afraid of the dark  
Close your eyes, the devil's inside.

One night of the hunter  
One day I will get revenge  
One night to remember  
One day it'll all just end.

Night of the Hunter (la nuit du chasseur) ~ 30 Seconds to Mars

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Chapter 1 -  
Demon in the Streets

* * *

I didn't think the night would end this way. I trusted myself to escape as easily as I usually do… painlessly. Yet I find myself here, lying pathetically on the dirty earth under this tree, breathing my last breaths, scared out of my mind. My heart is hammering painfully in my chest. I can feel blood seeping through my clothes and onto the freshly fallen snow, staining it a sickeningly vibrant shade of crimson. Never before have I been this afraid to die. I thought I could run from my fate forever. I thought I was untouchable.

But I was sorely mistaken.

* * *

I've lived an odd life here on Earth. Well, odd to anyone but myself. Then again, my life is odd, even through my eyes. You see, when you've lived for a couple hundred years without aging, people are bound to notice. And when people notice something odd, or unnatural, they feel the need to tell everyone about it, make a "big deal" out of it all. Then the story spreads like wildfire, and pretty soon you find yourself wondering what you did to make all these people hate you so much.

_"Well, humans hate plenty of things for no good reason at all,"_ I thought. _"And I can't complain. At least it makes my days interesting."_ I tilted my gaze to the full moon in the navy sky and took in a deep breath of frosty December air, filling my lungs with the faint scent of fresh snow, masked by the thick London smog. I haven't been to London in a couple years. Not since Joan was hanged. I smiled bitterly up at the moon and whispered, "Just you and me and another Christmas past, huh?"

I've been knocking around on my own for a while now, but no matter how alone I am, I always find myself happy on Christmas. I'm happy because I'm free to wander the streets, without having to worry about being accosted by angry civilians giving me dirty looks. Like usual, I'm alone, so there's no other reason for my happiness. Everyone is in their little houses, warm and happy with their big families, having Christmas dinner and opening presents. That's something I've never had, and something I'll never have. No matter how much I want it, I can't have it.

_"It hasn't always been this way, though,"_ I thought sadly, sitting down on the freshly fallen snow, so pure and innocent compared to me, so ruined and guilty. I ignored the icy wetness that soaked through my thin skirts and into my very bones. I'd gotten used to the damp and the cold of Britain a long time ago, and it hardly bothered me now. I gazed up longingly through the swirling snow and into the darkened sky, _"Why am I lying to myself? Of course it's always been this way. Fifty-four years I've lived in Great Britain and not one of them have I not been alone. Not one of them have I had a friend."_ I tentatively reached up to wipe the wild tears from my eyes, tears I hadn't even noticed fall. It's been years since I cried. "Damn, Evanna, cheery one aren't you?" I chuckled sadly to myself, wiping more frozen tears from my cheeks.

I pushed myself up from the snow, only to find myself face first in the fluffy substance a moment later. As I thrust myself up from the snow drift again, rather irritably, I rubbed the back of my head, which I found sopping wet. I heard a soggy thump, and turned to look at the guilty tomato resting on the pavement, frowning quizically. I glanced from the tomato to the small child who'd thrown it. He was dressed in rags, shivering from the cold, stiff in fear. He was clearly starving, as he was very thin, and he looked sick; nose red and runny, eyes kind-of foggy, and rather skeletal in appearance. I peered into his eyes, a dull brown, filled with terror and hatred. I flinch every time I see such hatred in the eyes of a child. They shouldn't have to hate anything at such a young age.

"Why did you throw a tomato at me?" I asked, smiling as best I could at the frightened child. Knowing how bad I was with people, I probably just scared him more. The boy couldn't be much older than ten. I faced him, and questioned, with a scolding mother sort-of tone, "What did I ever do to you that would prompt you to throw vegetables at me? Hmm?" I crossed my arms in front of my chest and pointed at the squashed tomato, "You could have eaten that."

The boy shuffled his feet nervously, ready to bolt, and stuttered out, "M-my mummy and d-daddy say th-that y-you are a d-d-demon." He took a few quick steps back, glanced in my direction and muttered, "They say you aren't human. They told me and my brothers and sisters that you kill people." His eyes darted from me to the shack near us, and he continued to tremble in fear and cold, clearly uncomfortable. I glanced to the shack, dilapidated and small, grimacing. Must be where he and his family lives.

A few moments of silence passed between us, while the child shivered, his eyes nervously jumping from me to his feet, refusing to meet my chilly stare. _"Of course he's afraid of me. There isn't a goddamn person in Britain that isn't. I don't know why I even bother protecting them. I guess for them, ignorance truly is bliss. If they knew what real monsters lurked in the shadows, they wouldn't think twice about fearing me."_

I grimaced, and scoffed, "If you had even the faintest idea what a demon is, you wouldn't be talking to me, boy." I leaned against a nearby tree, and gazed up at the moon, so bright and shining in the midst of all that blackness up above. I shifted my attention back to the child and smirked, stating coldly, "You would've run to your parents minutes ago crying like a newborn."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of white dart from one bush to another. I grinned mischievously and continued, "Your parents are right about one thing, though. I'm definitely not human."

I can't really believe what I'm about to do, because I'm not normally this nice to humans, but... God, I've got such a soft spot for children. It tears me apart to see that poor boy dying, bit by bit, in front of me. I could tell, too, because of the tremors that racked his tiny body and his rather rotting appearance. He clearly had the bubonic plague, well, the black plague, as the locals called it. At least he wouldn't die will an empty stomach.

The boy froze as I reached behind me to take hold of my bow. She's a beauty, too, made of willow wood, stained black with iron accents. I looked to the child and chuckled at him, "Oh, calm yourself. I don't plan on killing you." I smirked at the child, who relaxed a little at my statement. I flexed the bow a couple times, careful not to put too much strain on the cold wood.

"What are you doing, lady?" The boy's eyes showed caution, but he was eyeing me curiously, intrigued by my movements and intentions. He took a nervous step back as I drew an arrow from my quiver and nocked it on the string.

Before the boy could react, I spun around and loosed the arrow into the bushes nearby. A shrill squeal followed, and I strode proudly to the bush to retrieve the rabbit I noticed in the bushes a few minutes ago. I made my way back to where the boy was standing, mouth hanging open, and put on my best smile.

"Here. For you and your family. You look like you could use some good meat. Think of it as a present," I said as I tried awkwardly to hand the boy the deceased rabbit. He stepped back, eyes wide, and shook his head frantically. My face fell a little, my gentle smile replaced by a sad one. I knew it was a pointless endeavor...

"No," he whispered, "I can't." He backed farther away, the look of dread growing in his eyes as he shook with fear.

I tossed the rabbit haphazardly at his feet and the smile fell from my face, replaced by a disappointed frown. _"Even with my act of kindness he still fears me. I really am a monster, aren't I?"_ I thought sarcastically, and chuckled darkly to myself. My eyes hardened and I scowled, furious at myself for believing for a second that I could change how this child saw me. A child who grew up hearing nothing but ghost stories of how many people I've killed and how dangerous I am.

"_God, I am stupid, aren't I? I'm such a fool."_

I spun on my heel and strode away, my auburn hair flying behind me. I glanced back at the boy, and grumbled a tad bit harshly, "Better get back to your family. They must be wondering where you went to."

It's not the child's fault he fears me. It's not his parents fault. Hell, it's not even my fault. It's perfectly normal for people to fear things they can't explain, things they can't understand. No one can explain what I am, not even me. I've lived so many years, yet I still have no clue what I am, or why I'm here, or what I'm meant to do in this world. If I was smart, I'd fear myself. In the eyes of everyone else, I'm the wolf in sheep's clothing. The monster in the closet.

I fully intended to leave without another word to the boy, but I stopped abruptly when he called out to me, "Wait!"

I glanced back, my skirts twirling around my calves and gazed back at the boy. I raised an eyebrow at him, asking a silent question. When he didn't respond I followed with, "Well, what is it?"

He looked anxiously at me, as if fighting with himself about whether or not he should tell me something, and then looked in the direction of the city square, whispering "You know that they're coming for you, lady? The people of London are going to hunt you just like you hunted them. Well, that's what I heard." The boy paused and glanced at the rabbit, lying pitifully on the muddy earth, staining the snow with its blood, and continued, "That's what my mummy and daddy told me and my brothers and sisters. My daddy went to the square earlier. They want to kill you, lady."

I stared at the child for a moment and chuckled wryly, "I wish them luck. Not even I've been able to kill me. I'd praise anyone that could." I glanced in the direction of the city square, just now noticing the orange glow of hundreds of torches, and the distant din of hundreds of people shouting, getting ready for the hunt.

I stood tall, disgusted yet again by how rash and ignorant humans are. I grimaced and spoke callously, "You mortals are so rude and ungrateful. I hunted for you for years, brought you meat, and caught murderers and real monsters for you people." I snorted derisively, and continued, accusingly, "It's not my fault you can't see what I see. You don't realize that you live among other things, other monsters, hiding in human shape. All you see is me killing things you think are human. In reality, they're the true monsters. The real deadly creatures. For years I've saved you unappreciative pigs from things you can't see and don't understand. You can't see my blessing for my curse. And you never will." I spun on my heel, muddy snow flying, and strode away. This time I didn't stop to answer the question I was asked.

"Aren't you afraid of dying?" The boy's voice came from behind me, tiny and scared. The same way I felt when I woke up 215 years ago, nameless and faceless. The same way I feel every time I wake up somewhere new, unable to remember how I got there. "Aren't you afraid of what's coming?"

I paused, and for a moment, the world stood completely silent, waiting.

"No."

As if finding my declaration a challenge, a great clamor of howls and screams arose from the city square, one cry standing out from the rest.

"Let this be the last night of the Huntress!"

A great anger rose in my heart as I sauntered off into the forest, into another cold, lonely Christmas night. I didn't have to look back to know the child was gone, while the rabbit laid on the ground, left to rot in all it's ruined innocence. I was followed only by the screams of men and women and the howling of their dogs.

* * *

"_They'll never see, and they'll never understand why I've done what I've done; why I do what I do."_

Over the years, I've tried every method I can to show the humans I can be trusted. Time and time again I've hunted for them, brought them food. I've killed predators that had been preying on the livestock that fed their families. I've protected them from the monsters they can't see, things they can't even imagine in their worst nightmares. I've fought for the English countless times. I've poured my blood, sweat and tears into them and their species, and I've never asked for anything but to be accepted.

"_I guess that's too much to be asked of a species that can't see past skin deep,"_ I thought resentfully as I leapt over a fallen log. I've been in the forest for about an hour now, listening to the distant shouts of the hunters as they got closer, chasing me through the vast pine forest. I haven't been moving at a terribly quick pace, because, quite frankly, I haven't been able to care too much. They'll catch up eventually, so why waste extra energy to prolong the chase?

When I told the boy that I wasn't afraid of dying, I was lying. I've been running from death for years now. I ran from England, to France, then to Scotland, and back to England. I've been running for years, running from a fate that I didn't want to face. Everyone does. Humans, animals, mortals, immortals, even monsters. We all run from death. No one _really_ wants to die.

I've never wanted to admit to myself how much I actually fear death. I guess I've always thought dying at the hands of mortals would be a rather ironic end, considering I'm the one who's supposedly immortal. But I've resigned myself to that fate, now that I know I can never change what people think of me. I know these humans will never stop chasing me as long as they think I'm a threat to them and their families. I can never take away the fear that I have instilled in these people hearts.

It was completely unintentional, that fear. I didn't mean to make people fear me. But I did. And I knew I would have to pay for it someday. That day just came sooner than I thought it would. I thought I could run from my fate forever, that I was untouchable. But I'm not. And I was a fool to think so.

I was ripped rudely from my thoughts by an arrow whizzing past my ear. I whipped around to catch a glimpse of a young man, lean and muscular, unsteadily nocking another arrow on the string of his bow. I spun behind a tree and nocked an arrow on my bow, a grimace spreading across my face as I rested my head on the rough bark and took a deep breath. I closed my eyes briefly, gathered my concentration, and peeked around the trunk.

The man walked carefully across the forest floor, eyes darting everywhere, sweat dripping down his forehead, despite the frosty December air. He was trying his hardest to breathe quietly, but was failing rather miserably. He didn't look old enough to be a hunter, barely a teenager.

"Show yourself, Huntress!" He called out shakily, frantically searching the trees for any movement. The poor guy sounded like he was scared out of his mind.

I leapt from my cover behind the tree and let my arrow fly, swiftly turning on my heel to run, satisfied by the screech and thump I heard behind me. I sprinted farther into the forest, dodging leafy trees and bushes, leaping over fallen trees and large roots, adrenaline rushing through my veins. I could hear howling dogs and yelling men and women much closer now, coming from all directions, urging me to run faster.

I should have realized they would come at me from all sides. I should have been paying attention to my surroundings, but I got stuck in my own head. The rest of the hunters had been as quiet as possible to try and trap me. I hadn't expected that tactic, considering they usually don't think to be stealthy. The young man was just an overzealous pup that felt he needed to steal the glory, so he broke their cover.

"_For the moment, I'm safe, but soon the rest of the hunters will close in on me,"_ I thought as calmly as I could, leaning against a tree, regaining my breath. _"If I want to get past them, I'm going to have to hide and wait for them to pass."_ I resumed my flight through the forest, though I slowed down a bit, to better monitor my surroundings. My ears were trained on any noise in the vicinity; human, non-human, anything. My eyes were sharp, looking for anything I could use as a hiding place. I tread as lightly as possible and kept to what little grass and snow there was under the cover of the trees, avoiding anything that might make my presence known.

As the cacophony of men, women and dogs got closer and closer; I slowed even more, and looking frantically for a hidden cave, or a tall, leafy tree to steal away into. I began to panic as the voices got nearer, and started to become audible. I still haven't found a hiding place, and time is starting to run out. It all seems to be moving too fast, much too fast for my liking…

I hissed in both relief and dread as I finally found a decent tree to climb up. I hoisted myself onto the highest branch I could reach from the ground, and hurriedly scrambled farther up into the tree. Once I felt I was at a reasonable height, I stopped climbing and glanced down through the branches as a middle-aged woman passed beneath, armed with a frying pan.

"_Really? A frying pan? Is this some clichéd storybook?"_ I thought bemusedly, my heart still beating unceasingly, fear racing through my veins.

The woman disappeared from sight and I patiently waited for the next villager to pass by, my panic slowly leaving me, my body relaxing slightly. I looked up into the sky, taking the time to look at every individual star I could in the short amount of time I had. So many stars. Each and every one of them different; some bright, some dim, some small, some large. Some are white, others gold, or silver, or blueish. Some are planets, inhabited or uninhabited, filled with mysterious and thrilling places and things to see.

Not many in this particular century believe in things such as distant planets or alien life. Only the genius and insane have thought of it, and those that are the opposite reject it. I've been to the future before though, in the 1970's and 80's, where science has proven that there are far-away planets and scientists think alien life is possible. It truly was a wonderful era… not quite as dangerous or judgmental as this one.

I let out a strangled scream as an arrow buried itself deep into my thigh, and grit my teeth, swiftly loosing an arrow into the hunters head. I clambered from the tree as quickly and quietly as possible, hissing at the pain in my leg, and fled. I didn't bother to look back at the man or woman who'd shot me, instead focusing my energy on running as fast as my legs would carry me. I vaguely registered another arrow flying past my ear, as I ran deeper into the forest. I could clearly see more hunters ahead and swallowed, my throat dreadfully dry.

I dropped my bow at my feet and stopped to hide in a grotto of overlapping branches on the edge of a field where dozens of people waited. Catching my ragged breath, I steadied my shaking arms and legs, preparing myself for the hell that was about to break loose. I bent and ripped the arrow from my leg, scowling at the ugly blood seeping out. I used the arrow's head to hack my skirts apart, and used the cloth to bind my leg tightly, numbing the pain.

I grabbed my bow with trembling hands and nocked an arrow shakily as bloody images flashed through my mind, set to a soundtrack of spine-chilling screams. Images that I never wanted to see again, brought back by the sight of blood and the shriek filled night. I frowned pathetically, and found myself crying, unable to stop the wild sadness that filled my guilty heart. I hate killing people.

_"I told myself years ago that I would never kill another person,"_ I thought bitterly, and grimaced, remembering why I hate myself so much. I bowed my head and panted, squeezing my eyes shut, blocking the horrifying memories from my head. _"So like a psychopath to fall back on her instinct… I failed myself. I broke my promise."_

The shouts of the hunters brought me back to my senses and I sprinted from my hiding place and straight into a hell of flying arrows and charging bodies. I ran headlong into the din, loosing arrows in every direction, dodging men and women chaotically flailing their weapons at me. Men and women fighting against a terrifying monster.

I froze for a moment when I was faced with a young girl, barely of age, armed with a crudely made bow and arrows. My eyes widened, and the world slowed as I stared into the eyes of this girl, filled with pure terror, as she uncertainly nocked an arrow and raised her bow to take aim. My grip tightened on my bow and I raised it, nocking an arrow as dread filled my entire being. I felt like I couldn't even control myself, like I was possessed by a murderous demon.

"_No, no, I can't do this, I can't kill this poor terrified girl!"_ More tears began to pour from my eyes, and my whole body began to shake as I resisted the monster roaring inside me. The girl's eyes hardened and she began to pull the string of her bow taut. _"Her life has just begun!"_ My knuckles turned white as I grasped my bow with an iron fist, and forced myself to lower it, as the girl closed her eyes and let the arrow fly.

I stared as the arrow soared toward me, my mind screaming at me to move, to run away as fast as I could. My legs refused to move, rooted to the ground

"_You deserve this,"_ One part of my mind whispered maliciously in my ear. _"You made them fear you. You're a dangerous animal that needs to be killed."_

"_You don't deserve this,"_ The other part of my mind whispered softly in my ear. _"They're the ones that don't understand you. You don't deserve to be killed like a monster."_

I didn't move until the arrow tore through my shoulder, just above my heart. I flinched and stumbled back, as a sword embedded itself in my side. I spun viciously and kicked the man in the knees, sending him sprawling, and loosed an arrow into his heart. I spun and took off into the forest, arrows whizzing past from all directions.

The minutes blurred together as I ran, trying my best to disregard the searing pain in my side and the crippling pain in my chest, my heart throbbing, blood pounding in my ears. My vision began to cloud, my pace slowed, and I stumbled dizzily through the brush and bushes. My legs gave out and I crumpled underneath a dead tree, unable to push myself any further.

I'm only vaguely aware of the thundering of feet approaching as I stare unseeingly into the sky, overcome by a million different feelings, physically and mentally. I'm scared out of my mind, yet strangely calm. My blood is scorching through my veins, but is also frozen within them. I close my eyes, resting them, and an agonizing pain courses through my chest.

I laughed weakly and whispered, "I've never been this helpless before. Never this vulnerable…" I trailed off, overcome by another coughing fit, and drew my unwilling legs to my chest. "Never this… weak."

I didn't think the night would end this way. I trusted myself to escape as easily as I usually do… painlessly. Yet I find myself here, sitting pathetically on the dirty earth under this tree, breathing my last breaths, scared out of my mind. My heart is hammering painfully in my chest. I can feel blood seeping through my clothes and onto the freshly fallen snow, staining it a sickeningly vibrant shade of crimson. Never before have I been this afraid to die. I thought I could run from my fate forever. I thought I was untouchable.

But I was sorely mistaken.

I struggled to look up as footsteps stopped in front of me. All that were left of the hunting party were three heavily built men. One, clearly an archer, has an arrow aimed at my chest, and the other two brandished their weapons, a hand-axe and a old, beaten sword.

I sneered as the swordsman stepped forward, followed by the others, and spat, "Finally caught up with a dying woman, eh?" I hacked, a drop of blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. "Bit slow, aren't you?" I taunted, feebly shifting my bow into my lap as I was tormented with another coughing fit. _"I'm not going to die here tonight."_ I vowed silently to myself, grimacing as my heart throbbed even harder in my chest, bringing on another coughing fit. _"There's no way in hell I'll let that happen."_ I grimaced, _"Not at the hands of these mortals."_

They ceased their advance, and the axe-wielder bellowed, "Silence, demon! We have you cornered." He paused and smiled ferociously, his crooked yellow teeth peeking through his thin lips, "You have nowhere to go. You're at the end of the line." The axe-wielder laughed boisterously, and took another brave step forward.

The other men joined him in his laughter, and followed him as he slowly made his way closer. I smirked devilishly, and slowly nocked an arrow, feigning weakness. The men stopped and snickered, clearly amused at my seemingly useless attempt to defend myself.

The swordsman laughed, "Look! How cute! She's still trying to defend herself."

The archer chuckled, and drew back the string on his bow threateningly, "You're just wasting your energy. There's no way you're going to survive the night, Huntress." He and the other men sniggered even more, quite pleased with themselves.

"You want to bet?" I hissed frostily, gathering the energy to swiftly raise my bow and let the arrow fly. It found its home in the archers throat, who fell to the ground with a disgusting gurgle and an exaggerated thud.

The swordsman and the axe-wielder backed away, staring at their fallen comrade, lying in the snow, blood pouring from his neck, in horror. They turned back to me and glared, hands tightening on their weapons, noses flaring in anger.

I returned the look, just as ferociously, and said, "If I'm going to die, you're going to die with me," while nocking another arrow.

* * *

A/N: Well, I hope you enjoyed it, because I am going to bed. It's currently 4:40 in the morning, and I am dead tired... -.- Read and review, if you like, because it will be appreciated! Virtual bowties and fezzes to anyone who does!


	3. Chapter 2 - Metempsychosis

_Guys, I am SO sorry. It has been a long time, and I really didn't mean it to be. Turns out, my summer is busier than my actual school year. I am really sorry. Thank you all for reading, reviewing, favoriting, and following my story. I am amazed that I have nearly 1,500 views now. You have NO IDEA how happy that makes me. _

_Anyway, I am really sad that Matt Smith is leaving Doctor Who. Really bummed out. But I welcome the new Doctor, and I look forward to the 50th Anniversary episode with Eccleston, Tennant and Smith (and this new John Hurt guy) in November._

_Also turns out that I will be going to the Gallifrey One convention in California in February. Ironically, it's on Valentine's weekend, and I am 90% sure that I am going to go with my boyfriend. :3 If anyone else is going, let me know._

_I'll let you read this now, thank you all._

_Cracked_  
A Doctor Who Fanfiction

ζψε - θΣ

"Feels like I'm waking from the dead,  
And everyone's been waitin' on me.  
'Least now I'll never have to wonder,  
What it's like to sleep a year away.  
But were we indestructible?  
I thought that we could brave it all.  
I never thought that what would take me out  
Was hiding down below.

Lost the battle, win the war,  
I'm bringing my sinking ship back to the shore.  
We're starting over, we'll head back in,  
There's a time and a place to die but this ain't it."

Now ~ Paramore

ζψε – θΣ

Chapter 2 - Metempsychosis

(the transmigration of the soul, especially the passage of the soul after death from a human or animal to some other human or animal body)

ζψε – θΣ

_Peaceful days were uncommon in my life; a life where the tempo was always urgent, and the people around me were always dreadfully colorless and power-hungry. A life where I was nothing more than an unusually rare "prize" to be envied. Anyone could look at me and tell I hate my life with every fiber of my being._

_For the first time in months' my so-called "master" was forced to leave me alone while he was away on "diplomatic business," leaving me with the rare opportunity to sneak out and visit my companion. Seeing as I hadn't seen him in months, I embraced the chance, regardless of the lashing I would get if my "master" found out._

_My skin crawled at the thought of that horrible, repulsive man._

_But at the moment, I couldn't bring myself to care too much._

_I had __**much**__ better things to think about._

"_Is the blindfold necessary?"_

_My question hung in the air, unanswered, and I rolled my eyes behind the offending cloth. I heard a scoff somewhere to my left, and a series of rapid clicks and whirls as knobs and levers were turned and pushed. Following the clicks and whirls were corresponding sound effects: the tap of a key, or a gurgle, to which I raised a curious eyebrow, knowing full well that he could see it, regardless of whether or not he was looking._

"_Of course it's necessary, how else am I going to surprise you?"_

_His answer was simple, and quite true, at that, but there was no way I was going to pass up this opportunity… I leaned forward, propping my elbow on my knee, and rested my chin in my hand, a mischievous smirk turning up at the corner of my lips._

"_Oh __**drasorain***__, if you wanted to get kinky, all you had to do was __**ask**__."_

_My lewd comment didn't go unnoticed this time around, and I was quite satisfied by a muffled crash and an elastic sort of sound, like a taut spring being released. He had clearly bumped a couple of levers on his way down, as a myriad of noises followed._

"_That is __**not**__ what the blindfold is for!"_

_Even though I couldn't see him, I could tell just by the tone of his voice that he was taken aback at my comment, and his face was very likely lit up like a Christmas tree, what with the blush I knew was burning up his face._

_I chuckled as a frantic flailing of limbs signaled his ascent from the floor, amused as always by his adorably awkward mannerisms. I was __**always**__ able to embarrass him in some way or another with my humor; my mind was always in the gutter, and his reactions are always too comical to forgo. He can suffer through little embarrassment as long as it's for my amusement._

_With a final frenzied sequence of knobs and levers and buttons activated, the TARDIS trembled and wheezed as it dematerialized, and I laughed as both my friend and I tumbled with the machine's great shakes._

_Within a matter of moments, the shaking stopped, and a deep echoing thud reverberated through the console room. A thud that should __**not**__ have been there…_

"_Theta, you left the brakes on."_

"_So what? It's not going to hurt her! And it sounds cool!"_

"_I want to kill you."_

"_Oh, please, you wouldn't do that, Zeta." I could hear a smile in his voice as he strode rather noisily over to me. His footsteps stopped about two feet in front of me, and I looked up ay him, despite my inability to see. God, blindfolds are freaking __**annoying**__. "Then who would take you traveling when you manage to __**sneak away**__?" His tone was now teasingly smug, and though I didn't want to, I had to admit, he was right. _

_I pouted slightly. "Touché."_

_There was a soft rustling of cloth, and I felt his long, cool fingers wrap around my own, tugging me up from my seat gently. He led me over to the TARDIS doors excitedly, but stopped suddenly, and turned, apparently, back to me. He tapped me on the nose affectionately, while still grasping one of my hands in his own._

"_No peeking!"_

_Though I still thought the blindfold was pointless, I just nodded, honestly looking forward to seeing whatever it was that he was so wound up about. When he was this hyper, it usually meant that he had something amazing to show me._

"_Good!" _

_He released one of my hands, and pushed open the doors, leading me carefully through them and out into an unfamiliar environment. A wealth of scents flooded my nostrils and my bare arms were touched by a chilly breeze. I sniffed slightly, the scent of some sort of flower permeating the air around up._

_My companion tugged me forward a couple dozen more feet and came to a halt. He let go of my hands, and walked around behind me, where I soon felt his fingers at the knot of the blindfold._

"_Are you ready?"_

_I nodded excitedly._

_His fingers delicately untied the offending fabric, and removed it from my eyes. _

_In front of me was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen. I took in the scene silently for a moment, gazing out across the scenery. The skies were a subtle golden color, glinting off of the light lavender colored snow. The trees around us were vibrant shades of orange and red and purple, and tiny indigo flowers peeked out of the snow._

_I smiled contendedly and turned back to my companion. He too was smiling, his calm blue eyes glinting back at me as the wind ruffled his long and shaggy brown hair…._

ζψε – θΣ

I awoke in quite a panic. Not because I found myself lying on an uncomfortable sofa in a strange house, but because I knew that I needed to write this dream down. This dream was, by far, the biggest hint I have ever gotten about my past. Well, if it was my past, anyway.

"Okay Eva, gotta find yourself a pen, pencil, anything to write with…"

And there just so happened to be a pen lying on the small, worn coffee table to my right. I snatched it up and, for a moment, drew a blank. I stared at the opposite wall blankly for a moment, wondering what it was that I was missing…

"Paper! I need paper. Damn it…" I huffed and dug my journal out of the small leather pouch hidden under my skirts. Once I had found it, I dropped it unceremoniously on the table and flipped frantically through it, looking for a blank page.

Focused entirely on my frenzied scribbling, I failed to hear the entrance of others, too occupied with getting as much of the dream written down as I could before it faded away.

"What are you doing?"

The nervous-natured male voice broke my focus, and I slid unceremoniously from the edge of the sofa to the floor. I scoffed at the stupid question and resumed my writing, ignoring his inquiry, which was answered by another occupant of the room, a female, by the sound of it. A _Scottish_ female.

"What do you think she's doing, ya numpty? She's writing! But hey… what are you writing?" I heard her take another couple steps forward.

I scowled, so many people interrupting my focus!

"Oh, hello, sorry to be rude, but did you know that within five minutes of waking up, you have already forgotten 50% of whatever dream you had, and within another four, you've forgotten another 40%? In total that's about 90% of possible information about my past that I'll have forgotten. So, could you kindly shut up, and leave me alone for a minute?" I testily stated, still scribbling, now sketching a rough outline of the man from my dream. My friend, as he seemed to have been. I earned no response from behind me, and though I felt rather bad for being rude to the girl, I was relieved when their footsteps signaled their exit.

After another minute of sketching and scribbling, I closed the book, dropped the pen, and popped my now cramping fingers. My ears caught what sounded like hushed whispering coming from a room connected to what looked like a hallway to my left. I stood, stretched my aching muscles, and made my way in the direction of the couples muffled voices. I found myself by the entrance to the kitchen, where the two were talking.

I stopped, listening in on the conversation.

"Amy, you can't trust that woman!"

"_Ah, the nervous one. Apparently he's paranoid too. So the woman's name is Amy? I bet it's short for Amelia. She seems like that kind of girl."_

"Why not?"

"_Well that's a little more nonchalant than I expected."_

"Firstly, you don't know her! … and, secondly, didn't you say that she just walked into your house in the middle of the night and crashed on your couch?!"

"_Really now? I don't remember __**that**_. _Well, that was rude of me. …Two points for the nervous one."_

"Yeah, so what?"

"You act as if that's not suspicious! She could be a murderer, I mean, you saw her clothes! They're torn and covered in blood! _Blood_!"

I glanced down at my clothes. _"He has a point. They are, in fact, torn and covered in blood. And dust. Aaaand other things. Five more points for the nervous one."_

Amy huffed in reply. "I've seen stranger than that, Rory. Do you not remember that a strange man landed in my back yard when I was seven, fell out of his blue police box, which was apparently a time machine, ran into a tree, and then ate through my whole kitchen looking for something he could eat because he had a major case of the munchies?" She paused. "Now that I think about it, the bloke was probably high… but that's not the point! The point is that I have seen weirder!"

"_Well then, time traveler with a blue box… that should be an interesting story. Blue... police box? Well never heard that one before, but it seems somehow... familiar. Ten points to the Scot for standing up for me."_

There was an audible silence, which I could only assume meant that the nervous man, apparently Rory was standing there with his mouth hanging open. "Amy… I'm not going to be able to persuade you into sense, am I?"

"Ya can't win an argument with a Scot." I could hear the smirk in her statement.

Rory sighed, clearly upset that she wouldn't listen to him, and asked in a confused, and a tad bit disgusted, tone, "What are you making _that _for anyway? Actually, why are you making all of this food, not just _that._"

"Oh, Rory, I already told you, I'm making it because it's what the Doctor ate that night, and, for whatever reason, she reminds me of him." She paused for a second, and then continued excitedly, "Maybe she knows him! Maybe she knows where he is!"

"_Who is this 'Doctor' that she thinks I know? Can't say I've ever met someone with that name. She'll be disappointed. Well, this is as good a point as any to make myself known._" I stepped into the kitchen, though neither one noticed. They were both facing away from me. Amy was at the stove stirring a pot, and Rory was standing behind her, by the table. Rory wasn't lying when he said that there was a lot of food on the table: yogurt, apples, bread... bacon... beans? What _is _all this shit?"

The nervous one spoke, "He really ate this stuff that night? The bloke was definitely high." Rory turned around and jerked slightly when he saw me, appearing caught off guard.

I smiled awkwardly, and raised a hand to wave at him, and said, "Uhhhh… Hi. Sorry to be so rude earlier, I was feeling out of sorts and let my manners slip. Oh, and…" I glanced at Amy, who was now looking at me with a spatula in her hand, "I apologize if I just walked in unannounced and crashed on your couch… I honestly don't remember doing anything like that."

"Don't worry about it. I figured there was a reason, and you didn't seem to be a threat, so I just let you sleep." She chuckled a little. "_How odd that she's so... understanding. Humans are very strange. In one era they are needlessly cruel, and in another they are ridiculously understanding... and nice._"

Amy, who was very much a redhead, turned back to the stove and took the custard off, pouring it into a bowl which she set on the table. She smiled at me and whirled around to pull a cooking pan out of the oven, carefully placing the contents on a plate, which she also set on the table. Looked like some sort of fish sticks. Or fingers. Or whatever the hell they're called. Amy and Rory sat down across from me, Amy smiling at me as if I hadn't walked into her house in the middle of the night and crashed on her couch, and Rory staring me down as if I had done something to him to warrant his hate. Now that I really look at him, he looks a little familiar… Strange.

"You can eat. I'm sure you're hungry, since you've been out for almost two days. Oh, but eat the apple first! Oh, and my name is Amy Pond, and this is Rory Williams, a close friend of mine." Amy said this with a big smile on her face, gesturing to Rory.

"_Wait… Rory… Williams? Even his name sounds familiar." _I squinted my eyes, unintentionally staring Rory down as I thought, crossing my right leg over my left.

"Is something wrong?" He asked rather defensively, though still with that nervous undertone of him, breaking me out of my reverie. I shook my head and grabbed an apple, taking a bite out of it, chewing and then responded.

"I apologize for staring; I just can't place where I've seen you before." His eyes narrowed for a second, but his expression lightened after.

"Where would you have seen me before? I've never met you." He leaned back in his chair,

I grimaced a bit and set the apple down. I never was one for apples. I examined my fingernails, and figured I might as well explain.

"Throughout history, the same people make appearances. They have different faces, but their bodies are the same, or very close. It's not a common thing, but they do show up anyway." I looked back up at my hosts, smiling slightly.

"Usually it's because they had unfinished business in a past life, and were transferred to another body, hundreds, sometimes even thousands of years in the past or future so they could finish their business. You could call it a metempsychosis of the soul." I paused for a second. _"Like me." _

"That's also the reason for ghosts, and some other paranormal things. Ghosts are simply souls hanging in limbo, trapped without a body to go to. Or, at least, this is what I believe. I saw an exact look alike of Julius Caesar wandering through the streets of London in the 70s. It was an odd day." I paused, cocking my head, and Amy's words from earlier came back to me.

"_Time traveler…"_

"I suppose another reason could be time travelers, like the one you mentioned earlier. Visiting, jumping from place to place; time to time, seeing the sights."

"_I must being boring these people to __**death**__. I can't help my rambling sometimes." _ I chuckled a little bit. "Sorry, I must being boring you two to death."

On the contrary, Amy looked like a kid in a candy store, drinking in the information like it was her life force. Rory looked slightly interested, though still distrustful. Amy grinned from ear to ear.

"So you're a time traveler?" She had a hopeful glint in her eyes.

Unexpectedly, my stomach growled, cutting off the sentence I was about to start, and I realized how ravenous I really was. Amy pushed a yogurt cup and a spoon at me next, giggling a little, and I gladly accepted, smiling. I did like yogurt. I again was curious about the order that I was supposed to eat things in, but I didn't ask.

"Well… not exactly. I really don't know what I am. Anyway, this has been rattling around in my brain for a while… Is 'Amy' short for 'Amelia'?" I brought a spoonful of yogurt to my lips.

"Yeah, it is. How did you know?" She looked a little surprised.

"Just a lucky guess, I suppose." Another spoonful of yogurt.

An awkward silence fell upon us, interrupted only by the buzzing of cicadas. "_Infernal bugs._"

"_Honestly, the silence is killing me. They're kind of… staring me down while I eat. It's a little unnerving. I should find a way to break the silence… "_

In less than one uncomfortable minute I had finished the yogurt. I glanced at Amy, figuring I might as well play along with her little game. It was rather amusing anyway.

I stared in feigned horror at what she pushed at me next. It was… a plate of bacon. I waved my hand and smiled, pushing it slightly away with my pointer finger.

She looked at me strangely.

I faked a grimace at her. "Bacon is for sycophants, and products of incest."

"_…Close enough. I don't know where that came from though."_

Needless to say, I got a pair of strange looks. I burst into a fit of laughter, grabbed a piece, and said, "Nah, I'm just joking, I love bacon."

Amy laughed and grabbed a piece as well, while Rory just looked at me confused, cautiously grabbing a piece of his own, as if he thought I would bite him if he took one.

"_Well, at least I got them to laugh. That's close to talking right?_"

I chewed slowly. Bacon tasted a little funny. Not bad, just different. I ate another piece and inwardly shrugged. Whatever.

I rubbed my hands together, propping my elbows on the table, and looked at Amy. "What's next, Amy?"

She pushed a bowl of beans at me.

"So, how long have you two been together?"

As I was waiting for my comment to sink in, I pulled the large bowl over to me and scooped a spoonful of beans into my mouth. I instantly gagged, surprised by the horrid taste. I launched myself out of my chair, knocking it over as I rushed to the sink, spitting out the beans disgustedly, while Rory rejected my assumption that they were a couple loudly in the background. I hissed at the sink, trying my best to get the awful taste out of my mouth. When I was done, I calmly walked over to my chair and picked it up, setting it upright again. I sat back down and pushed the beans away scowling at them. Rory was still denying my previous statement, muttering under his breath, "We're not a couple, just friends…" Over and over, getting quieter every time.

I ignored him for a moment, too focused on the betrayal of the beans."Beans never tasted that way before. The beans betrayed me. Evil beans." I glared at the beans, and Amy burst into a fit of laughter for an unknown reason. She pushed a piece of buttered bread at me, which I devoured. I could survive on bread any day.

Through her laughter, she managed to speak, "Me… and Rory… aren't dating. Why would we ever do that?" She barely managed to finish her sentence, but I could still see the hurt in Rory's eyes at her comment. I smiled knowingly at him, and he looked back at me surprised, his face softening a little.

All that was left on the table was the fish fingers and custard. "_Fish fingers… and… custard? Okay then. I think I like fish fingers. Not so sure about custard though._"

Amy's laugher slowly faded away, and she giggled as she looked at me.

"Sorry… You did the same thing he did. " She giggled again and pushed the plate of fish fingers and bowl of custard at me. I cocked an eyebrow. Was I supposed to eat this together? "_Might as well ask."_

"Uh… am I supposed to eat these things together?" I pointed at each and looked up at Amy, who nodded enthusiastically. I shrugged and picked up the bowl of custard, pulling the plate of fish fingers closer too._ "It won't hurt to try new things."_ I examined a fish finger as I nonchalantly asked Amy a question that had been bugging me.

"So who's the Doctor? I overheard the bit about me possibly knowing him." I dipped the fish finger in the custard and examined it again. "… and I'm sorry to say I don't." I glanced back up at Amy as I bit into the odd combination, chewing slowly. I was taken aback by the taste of the strange food.

"Oh my god, this is really fucking good!" I happily chewed the custard covered fish stick, finished it off, grabbed another and dipped it in. I glanced at Amy, who smiled again, apparently happy that I liked her strange combination of foods. I got a strange look from Rory. It looked like he was reminded of a bad experience. Huh. Strange.

"_Perhaps he doesn't like this Doctor, character. Or maybe he just doesn't like me. Or the fish custard. Who knows."_

"Oh, well, for one, he's the one that came up with fish custard." She reached across the table and dipped a finger in the custard for herself.

"Well, I'll have to thank him for the wonderful idea." After a bite, Amy set her fish finger down. Apparently she didn't care too much for the combination. Or wasn't hungry. Who am I to judge? I'm pretty fucking weird myself.

I raised an eyebrow, asking for an expanded answer. She stared for a moment and blushed suddenly, rubbing the back of her head bashfully, as if she was embarrassed about something.

"Well, I know this sounds odd… and you won't believe me…but he's a time traveler that kind of… crashed in my back yard when I was seven." She laughed a bit, standing up to put the dishes in the sink, continuing her story while she began to wash them, "He climbed out of his blue box, which is his time machine and claimed he had been in the swimming pool that was in his library." She smiled at the plate she was scrubbing, "And then he came in and ate all the same stuff I gave you. Then he… fixed the crack in my bedroom wall." Her smiled took on a sad look, and she finished her story, "Then he left."

I narrowed my eyes a little as she dried her hands off and sat back down. _"He promised to come back for her, didn't he? Then he never did. That's gotta hurt. I oughta slap the bastard. Well, if I could."_

"Rory doesn't believe me, and I'm sure you don't…" She looked down at her hands bashfully, refusing to meet my eyes.

I interrupted. "Of course I believe you." She looked up at me surprised. I smiled at her, continuing my thought as I set the bowl of custard down.

"I could tell if you were making it up. That, and I've seen things you could never imagine. You probably wouldn't believe me if I told you that I died in 15th century England and woke up here, in your home, wherever we are." I smiled at her nonchalantly, nibbling on another custard covered fish finger. "Speaking of which, where exactly are we? Scotland?"

My question went unanswered, as Amy looked at me with her mouth hanging open slightly. "_I don't know why I'm telling them this. Maybe it's because I feel… safe. Safe… and comfortable for once in my blasted existence. It's good to feel safe, and comfortable… and happy." _I couldn't stop the smile that spread across my face. "_It's so easy to talk to these people_."

I reached across the table and pushed Amy's jaw closed. As she snapped out of her reverie, she responded to my question, "Oh! We're in… Leadworth. In England. Rubish England…" She trailed off with the last sentence.

I smiled. If I'm not mistaken, Leadworth was where I came all those years ago. Exactly 125 years ago. And then I realized something.

"You know, I haven't introduced myself yet. My name is Evanna Reid. Yes, I know, I sound crazy, but the best people are, aren't they?" I smiled at Amy and Rory, who both nodded at me. After a short silence, Rory spoke to me for the first time.

"So… I guess your story explains why you're dressed so… oddly." He sat up and stared me in the eye. "…but why are you covered in blood? Better yet… how did you die? And why don't you talk like you're from the 15th century?" He narrowed his eyes at me. I stared back unfazed and answered calmly.

"I was being hunted where I came from." I paused looking down at my blood encrusted hands. The conversation had taken a turn for the worse. "I was hunted by people that did not understand me. People that did not understand what I am. Or what I did." I glanced back up at Rory and Amy with an unyielding expression. "That's all I'm going to say on the matter. Other than the fact that I was not a criminal, so you don't have to worry about me murdering anyone, Rory. Oh, and I was not originally from the 15th century, so I don't talk like they did back then. I have been to a relatively modern England before. I think it was the 1970s. Or maybe the 60s… It's hard to remember."

There was an awkward silence for a few moments, until Amy broke it with the single most understanding thing that had ever been said to me.

"I understand that you don't want to talk about it. You believe my story, and that is more than anyone else has every given me, so I'll believe yours." She grinned at me, eyes glinting like a fox. "So, how about we kick out this numpty…" she jabbed a thumb in Rory's direction, "… and get you cleaned up. You've been asleep on my couch for several days now. And since you're absolutely covered in blood, sweat, and dirt, I'm sure you would love to take a shower." She winked at me and dragged Rory out of his seat, shoving him at the door despite his protests against leaving her alone with me.

"_It's a shame that she's too daft (daft in a good way) to see that he loves her, and he's too shy to tell her that he does._" I chuckled as Amy walked back in triumphantly, grinning at me.

"Sorry about him. He's a little bit…"

"Protective? There's nothing wrong with being protective." I continued as Amy led me upstairs. "I can understand why he wouldn't trust me. Actually, I'm surprised that neither of you called the authorities after I showed up. I'm grateful of course, but surprised none-the-less."

I stopped behind her as she led me into a small bathroom.

"Towels are in that bottom cabinet, soap and shampoo in the tub." She turned back to me. "After you're done, I'll find you some clothes to wear and… figure out what to do with those." She looked at me from head to toe, before stepping out of the room, closing the door behind her.

"Alright. A bath. Sounds amazing right now."

ζψε – θΣ

It had taken over an hour to scrub the grime off my skin, and another thirty minutes to dig out the various twigs and leaves that had gotten caught in my hair while I was running through the forest. Another half hour was spent showering to get the rest of the grime off and clean out the tub so I didn't leave a mess.

I was now standing in front of a mirror, taking in the appearance of the new me. Not much had changed physically. My physique was the same, as were my eyes. They had remained the same piercing gold that they had always been. My hair had changed quite dramatically too. Before, it was waist length, and scarlet. Now, it was much shorter, barely long enough to brush my shoulders. And the color… it had changed to a deep, purple-tinted red. Wine red, I suppose. Such an odd color, but still rather nice. At least I wasn't blonde. I never want to be blonde.

Amy had brought me some pyjamas after I got out, just a pair of black pants and a purple tank top. The only bodily change I've noticed is that my boobs may have gotten a bit bigger. I squinted at the mirror, daring it to lie to me. About what, I don't know.

So many questions were running through my mind, but there were several that wouldn't stop aggravating me.

"Why did I change?" "_Because that sure as hell hasn't happened before._"

"Why do I continue to live, though I should have died?" _"Because that is just a great goddamn question."_

"And why does that Rory bloke look so damned familiar? I swear I've seen him somewhere before." I scowled as I sat down on the edge of my bed in the guest room Amy had been so kind to lend to me. I picked up my worn leather journal, and sat up against the headboard, pulling my knees to my chest and flipping the journal open to the first yellowing page.

For what felt like hours I furiously flipped through the pages, until I stumbled across one, the one that answered all my questions.

It was a sketch. The first sketch I had ever decided to do, so that I would remember the people that I met. Ironically, he was the one that convinced me to do so.

It was a sketch of a young roman soldier, whom I had met several hundred years ago, during the reign of Julius Caesar.

It was a sketch of Rory Williams.

ζψε – θΣ

*drasorain ~ darling

Okay, let me know if this is stupid, but since I plan to have A LOT of Gallifreyan in this story, I have decided to create my own. It is a mix of Swedish, Italian, and Hungarian. Strange right? Please let me know if this is stupid.

Thanks everyone!

Oh, and if anyone caught the not-so-subtle Borderlands 2 reference, I offer you a hug, because that game is the best damn thing ever. Well, except for Doctor Who, of course.

EDIT: Okay, if you get the chance, check out the Official Video for this chapters song, Now, by Paramore. I think it fits Evanna's emotions in this one pretty accurately.


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